


𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙-𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡

by Adrenalineshots, sonshineandshowers, TheFibreWitch



Series: Domino 🁡 [29]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, College Bright, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, Harassment, Health Emergency, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Metafiction, Murder Mystery, Nightmares, Surrealism, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Video, a lot of really strange stuff that happens in altered states of consciousness, anxiousness, reader-driven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/pseuds/TheFibreWitch
Summary: Selecting 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙-𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 from the bookshelf, Malcolm travels through his own mind.Read this story at:https://www.thedominostory.com/#the-tell-tale-heartThis book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read thePrefaceorIntroduction, please head there first.
Series: Domino 🁡 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926451
Collections: Domino 🁡, Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 - Saturday Posts





	𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙-𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/gifts), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/gifts), [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Tell-Tale Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685363) by Edgar Allan Poe. 



> This book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read the [Preface](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64577434#workskin) or [Introduction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588537#workskin), please head there first.
> 
> Betaed by the wonderful [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/), and [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/).
> 
> Credit to the creators and their works that inspired and were referenced in this work:  
>  **— Inspiration:**[The Tell-Tale Heart](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tell-Tale_Heart) \- Edgar Allan Poe  
>  **— Cover Song:**[Teardrop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7K72X4eo_s) \- Massive Attack

[](https://www.thedominostory.com/images/full/the-tell-tale-heart.jpg) |   
---|---  
  
Malcolm was keenly aware of his anxiety. He didn’t like to think of it as an illness, but in a sense, it was. He supposed he wasn’t _born_ anxious; it was very obviously a byproduct of his childhood. In fact, he remembered a time when he felt carefree and was surrounded by friends. Now only nightmares greeted him.

That damn box.

The hours of sleep he had lost over that box. The screams echoing in his skull. He shook his head, returning his attention to the present.

“Aren’t you excited, dear?” his mother gave him a tight smile as Adolpho pulled up to the drop-off point in front of the college. Malcolm gave a hint of a smile in response.

Adolpho parked the car and went around to let Malcolm and his mother out onto the sidewalk.

Harvard.

Malcolm breathed deeply. A new beginning.

“Come on, let’s get you settled,” his mother said as she looped her arm in his.

The crisp autumn air curled around his face and whispered, _“We’re the same.”_

Malcolm clenched his jaw and swallowed the bile that crept up his throat.

“Alright,” he managed to reply. “I think my dorm is this way.”

The room was quiet. It looked like any standard dorm room, two beds, two desks, etc. The room was devoid of life and stood before him like a tomb. He was the first to arrive.

“Aw, I was hoping to meet your new roommate. It’ll be good for you to make new friends, and I’m so excited to hear all about them,” his mother tutted. She turned to him and held his face in her hands.

“You’re going to be alright; I can tell you’re nervous, but please, try to move forward. You have a whole life in front of you, Malcolm.” She kissed his forehead. “It’ll do you good to be away from your –” she cut herself off and smiled to dismiss the darkness that crept over her perfect features. “Enjoy yourself, darling, but remember, no crazy parties.” She winked and left Malcolm standing alone in the empty room.

* * *

He was half under his bed when footsteps approached, followed by a loud _thunk._ Malcolm turned his head to investigate the sound. He felt himself go numb. At the foot of the other bed now sat a black trunk.

 _“We’re the same,”_ the shadows breathed in his ear.

“Hi,” a chipper voice came from above. Malcolm slowly moved from under the bed, giving himself time to gain his composure.

“Hi,” he replied softly and looked at his new roommate for the first time. Dark, curly hair sat atop a face that held eyes with a familiar color.

Malcolm’s heart raced.

“I’m Sean,” the man with his father’s eyes said. His voice sounded far away, as if Malcolm was hearing him from underwater. Malcolm glanced at the trunk on the floor. The lid was now slightly ajar. To his horror, a pair of eyes looked out at him through the gap.

His breath caught and he turned and fled the room without saying another word.

* * *

When he finally returned, it was dark. Sean was clearly in bed, under the covers. Malcolm dared not look at the box.

 _“We’re the same,”_ the box lid creaked out in greeting.

Malcolm shut his eyes, and stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.

“Who’s there?”

It was Sean’s voice, but Malcolm only saw his father’s eyes shine in the dark.

 _“We’re the same,”_ the box rasped.

“No,” Malcolm whimpered. “No.”

“Malcolm?” Sean turned on the light, looking mildly irritated. “What are you doing? Go to bed, man.” He grunted and rolled over.

Malcolm did, with his face to the wall.

* * *

The next few days passed without event. Malcolm managed to explain to Sean he had a rough first day. Sean shrugged and said, “It happens to the best of us.”

They continued like this, co-existing. And then Sean went home for a long weekend.

Malcolm was reading in his bed when that familiar voice spoke.

_“Look at me, my boy.”_

Malcolm dropped the book. He stole a glance at the box. The latch was open.

 _“We’re the same.”_ The lid gaped open, a toothless grin smiling at him.

Malcolm pulled his knees to his chest. His father’s eyes peered out of the darkness of the box.

_“We’re the same. We’re the same. WE’RE THE SAME.”_

Malcolm wasn’t sure who was screaming louder, the box, or himself.

* * *

Security came and investigated the screaming. They found Sean’s trunk on its side, contents pooling in a heap on the floor and the lid ripped from its hinges. Malcolm laid in his bed, facing the wall.

They relocated Malcolm in the end. He didn’t argue, he was given his own room, though it was much smaller than his previous one. He found it cozy, he could study easier and enjoy his books in peace. Even better, there was no black trunk to taunt him at night. He felt good.

One night, he came back from class, exhausted. He fell into his bed as the busy day faded.

 _“We’re the same,”_ the walls murmured as he drifted to sleep.

Yes, he was cozy in his new room, his own little box.

— ◌◯◌ —

The small vestibule that JT and Dani enter has a pathway that disappears toward the back of the building. The only other egress visible is a door behind the counter, _Sunnyside Greenery_ painted above it. Dani stands to the side in clear view of the door they entered through. Confident she’s watching his back, JT speaks to the man behind the counter. “Hi, we’re Detectives Powell and Tarmel.” He gestures to each of them in turn. “We’re looking for Mr. Goodman?”

“This is he,” the man responds.

“We’d like to ask you some questions about Veronica Sogni.”

The man continues his work behind the counter, rifling through a box of plant markers. “Who’s that?”

“She’s the focus of our investigation and may have come into your shop.”

“We’re a greenhouse.” The man keeps his answers short, clipped as if he doesn’t seem fond of talking.

“Your greenhouse. Could you check your sales records to see if she may have come in?”

“We use paper.” His lack of initiative to assist is frustrating, yet JT understands the reluctance. The man doesn’t know them from any other officers, and they’re poking into the private affairs of his business.

“Could you please look?”

“Takes time.”

“Would telling you particular types of plants help?” Dani steps in.

“I can tell you if we grow them. Still takes time to find who bought them.”

The man walks into a back room, leaving JT and Dani to glance at each other. “Not the most cooperative guy,” Dani comments.

“How does he sell anything?” JT wonders.

“Maybe if he doesn’t, it’ll take less time to go through the records.” Dani smirks.

JT looks over the counter. Blank markers, labeled markers, _Oʀ·ᴄʜɪ·ᴅᴀ·ᴄᴇ·ᴀᴇ_ , _Hʏᴏ·sᴄʏ·ᴀ·ᴍᴜs_ , an open planner with small caps lining the pages, plotting out the next week. “Look at the handwriting.”

It’s familiar, somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Head back to the [Bookshelf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588570#workskin) to pick another book. :)


End file.
